From Ashes To Dust
by wy479
Summary: Maxwell Kepler was never really the rational type. From battling on the Ark against the flood, to continuing Benjamin Giraud's work. IN PROGRESS, SUMMARY MAY CHANGE AS STORY PROGRESSES, STORY WILL GET BETTER WITHIN THE NEXT FEW CHAPTERS.
1. Chapter 1: Beginnings

**I've been holding off on writing this story, mainly due to Halo 5's release, and my worries of it being practically non-canon as soon as it was published. I'm glad for doing that though, because Hunt The Truth's latest episode would've contradicted a major plothole in this story. I am aware that eventually this will stray from the main storyline greatly, I just didn't want it to contradict it straight away.**

 _* / Chapter 1._

 **/ SECTION 3 EYES ONLY, THIS IS A PENDING INVESTIGATION.**

 **/ COPIES ARE NOT TO BE MADE, Contact your section head immediately and enact BACKBURN protocol if you suspect any compromise or loss of operational integrity.**

"Everyone was watching it, when Benjamin Giraud's story hit the shit house."

"It was perfect really, the way that the net seemed to catch Giraud just as his story concluded. Ending with him being the traitor, and the story having being discredited."

"I listened to every single audio log Giraud had made, before his eventual capture. I still keep copies of it actually.. I'll see if I can find them for you guys in a minute who didn't get the chance to listen before it was taken down."

"I don't know if any of you did notice this though, but when Ben was being taken away by ONI agents.."

He took a pause then, pulling up the image of Charles Kesler as Giraud was shouting his leaving messages.

"Charles was smirking at Benjamin's capture."

"I don't know why, but it almost seemed funny to him, as if he knew that would be the eventual outcome of Giraud."

He took a glance to his left, noticing the red blinking light that was notifying him of his microphone being online. Pulling up his COM Pad, he had a look at his livestream's chatter functions. This was all being done over Chatternet instead of Waypoint, for he wanted to be going as long as possible.

He quickly pressed the mute function on his microphone, and began to talk out loud.

"Mel, how long does it take you to retrieve five bloody files from ONI?" He said, shouting at his accomplice who although wasn't in the room with him, was there in spirit.

"You know, you could always just breach several thousand firewalls yourself." She replied, he could hear the humor in her voice.

"Yeah well.. You know that they'll discover you lurking. My livestream will only keep them so long." He said, a sense of urgency in his voice.

"There, got it. I'm transferring the files to your computers now."

Mel, short for Melissa was one of the very few people he could trust. He didn't know much about her, but he knew going into this he had to involve as less people as possible, due to that being Giraud's biggest downfall. He quickly pulled up his COM Pad, and viewed the files with his microphone still being muted.

"Perfect Mel.. This is what we'll need to finally take those assholes down."

Maxwell Kepler wasn't the smartest human alive, but he knew what it'd take to bring ONI's empire down. He just hoped that he would have enough time to do it.

"You guys seem to be really enjoying that image." Maxwell said, unmuting his mic and seeing the familiar red blinking light return.

His chatter feed was blowing up, with people debating over the image of Kesler enjoying Giraud's capture. Some were stating the image showed nothing, whilst a majority of listeners stated otherwise. Some were throwing death threats at one another, in an attempt to bring others over to their own side.

He clicked on the files that Mel had gotten for him. He had hoped that they were enough to get ONI's attention. There was varied medical records, about children that had gotten sick. They weren't what he was searching for.. He kept swiping until he stumbled upon a video that had gotten his attention.

"Mel, mind telling me how you got this?" He said, once again muting his microphone.

There was no response though. Mel could clearly hear him, as stated by their call's timer still going on.

"Mel, why aren't you responding? Are you okay?" He said once again, worry escalating in his voice.

Thoughts escalated through his head, some filled with worry and others filled with dread. She couldn't have been an ONI operative.. could she? She was the one person he had chosen to help with this, so the odds would be significantly high.

What if they had gotten to her? Guilt surged through his chest like a Sangheili lunging forward to skewer its enemy.

"Mel, respond to me.. please." He said, ultimately beginning to give up on her.

He needed to get his mind together, if she didn't respond then he needed to end the call, incase he was being tracked.. The stream could not end this quickly.

"Mel I'm sorry, but if they have you I have to prevent them being able to track me.. Stay safe." Ending the call, he noticed his hand was slightly trembling.

He quickly pressed the button on his mic, to unmute it again. Checking that his signal was still strong and that he was still streaming, he continued talking.

"So it appears that I have stumbled across some things that ONI would've rathered die with Benjamin Giraud."

"Of course there is still a chance that he isn't gone, but we really cannot be too sure with ONI. They like tying up loose ends."

He swiped up on his COM Pad, and the medical record's that had been sent to him only moments earlier by Mel fluttered up into his streams chat. It lit up even more as people had begun fighting over what they meant.

"These records were originally part of one of the many files that had been originally discovered by Benjamin Giraud on Bliss. A contact I have were able to safely retrieve them for me earlier on." He said, with his hands finally stabilizing as confidence returned.

"I have one more video that some of you may find interesting, but I think I'll save that until the end of the stream, until when ONI finally decides to bring both I, and this stream down." He said, still somehow managing to keep his confidence together even after realizing his inevitable fate.

He swiped on his COM Pad as he viewed more of the chatter in the chat. People were fighting mainly over the authenticity of the new files. He swiped on his COM Pad, and transferred even more files into its chat.

"I've just transferred all fourteen episodes of Hunt The Truth into the chat. This includes the last episode that Petra Janacek's conclusion of it all." Upon concluding that sentence, he muted his microphone again as to look at the file that had peeked his curiosity earlier. He found it interesting mainly due to its size, as the other files weren't as nearly as big.

It turns out it wasn't just a file, it was a video. Upon pressing play, he watched as a security camera filmed a pelican as it landed. As the back door opened, a man stepped out carrying a boy's body. The boy seemed to be asleep, as they carried him into an apartment building. A woman with her hair tied into a small bun seemed to follow him, carrying a COM Pad with her whilst doing so. He quickly had a look at the video's file properties, and saw that it was dated back to 2517. Within a matter of minutes, the same pair walked out of the building holding the same boy. But his appearance was slightly different. His hair was in a completely different position, and although it could be blamed on wind, he doubted it was so. As the pelican took off with the three safely inside, he noticed a small triangle carved onto the side of it. It was surrounded by a circle, and seemed to have a circle in the middle of it.

He knew that symbol very well.

"ONI.." He said with the tension in the air slightly rising.

He quickly unmuted his microphone, and continued talking for what seemed like several hours, but in reality was only two. By this point, his viewer count had doubled and he began answering viewer questions. One viewer seemed to know things that seemed to peek his curiosity, so he seemed to answer his questions more than anyone else. But when this question dropped, he didn't have an answer to give.

 _/ **WINGEDFORCEZ:** "So how did you feel about you being the only one left from your group?"_

This person.. this individual.. They couldn't know anything about him, could they? He decided to continue the stream on a different note, and attempted to stray away from their question.

"So moving away from the questions, do you guys have any theories on what the disturbances Mshak Miraudi found could be?"

He glanced down at his COM Pad, and the livestream's chat began piping up with theories and speculation. Then they asked it again.

 _/ **WINGEDFORCEZ:** "You didn't answer my question, how did you feel about being the only one left in Alpha-Three?"_

He paused for a minute, and took a deep breath. How sensitive was his microphone, could they hear his breathing? Was this person an ONI operative? Are they looking at him now, waiting for a time to strike? All of this waiting had left him extremely vulnerable and.. slightly unstable as a person.

He quickly muted his mic, as to prevent this persons distasteful pleasure at his discomfort in the case that they could hear his breathing. But how did they find out about Alpha-Three? After the Human-Covenant war it had been closed, with every file about its members erased..

So they had to be an ONI operative then.

He quickly unmuted his mic, composed himself and continued talking. Only once did he stop, to read what the person had typed afterwards.

 _/ **WINGEDFORCEZ:** "Please answer my question.."_

He decided to ignore him, as the chat was doing. But were they ignoring him, or could they just not see what he had been writing? Are ONI operatives ready to just storm his apartment now, and take down his stream?

But he didn't care, and he continued talking.

After the war, he had been put on a Veteran's pension, forcibly removed from his job and had continued receiving payoffs from the UNSC and ONI to keep quiet about what he had seen during the war. Apparently he was "Too unstable" to be fit for active duty.

He loved it though, and they had taken the one thing that had made him feel alive. Not the feeling of killing, but the feeling of always having squadmates to back up on. They were his family, and he had been forcibly taken away from them without even getting to say goodbye.

He didn't even do anything wrong.

He quickly swiped on his COM Pad, and added WINGEDFORCEZ to the banned list. He didn't want to have to deal with anything else that person had to say.

But then it appeared again.

 _/ **WINGEDFORCEZ:** "Answer my question, and I will leave."_

He looked at his COM Pad again, and saw that his ban list no longer included WINGEDFORCEZ on it. Fearing the worst, he quickly prepped the video for addition onto the chat. Thankfully he set the chat's settings to not allow everyone to transfer files, otherwise viruses would be flying everywhere.

He quickly typed lines of commands onto the chat of his livestream. Upon receiving WINGEDFORCEZ IP, he managed to add it to the IP BANNED list. He unmuted his microphone and attempted to continue again.

"I'm legitimately surprised they haven't sent anyone after me yet." He said, with a slight smirk on his face.

Looking at his chat, there were people still fighting over the evidence from before, the questions segment and now about his eventual capture and when it'd happen. But yet again it seemed that he wouldn't be rid of WINGEDFORCEZ as another line of text popped up on the screen.

 _/ **WINGEDFORCEZ:** "You cannot ban me. Answer the question and I'll leave."_

His heart seemed to skip two beats after swiping to the IP BANNED list, and encountering the lack of his IP. He momentarily freaked out over this. Why do they keep coming back? What is their objective by doing so..? Why will they just not leave him alone?

Had he been listening more carefully, he would've noticed that he was no longer the only being in his room.


	2. Chapter 2: Eventual Capture

_* / Chapter 2._

 **/ SECTION 3 EYES ONLY, THIS IS A PENDING INVESTIGATION.**

 **/ COPIES ARE NOT TO BE MADE, Contact your section head immediately and enact BACKBURN protocol if you suspect any compromise or loss of operational integrity.**

He doesn't know what tipped him off first: the smell of fresh air for the first time in a week or whether he could hear their breathing ever so slightly. But he knew this: he was no longer alone.

"I don't know where I am going to lead this stream from now on, I kinda want to have you guys call me with like more viewer questions?" He said this with uncertainty, for he knew he was being watched now.

He slightly adjusted his COM Pad so that the light from the hall outside his apartment would reflect on to it, providing him with more vision into his room. He did this in such a way that it wouldn't look suspicious, as to not set off any alarm bells to whoever was within this tiny room with him.

It was obvious now that he was going to be brought in, and he knew that he couldn't mute his microphone before fighting the person they had sent after him. They needed to hear it, and know the outcome.

There! He saw a slight shimmer from the invisibility upgrade the person had put on their armour. Invisibility was extremely hard to see, especially in dimly lit places. He was just happy he knew what to look out for.

If he wanted to keep ONI on their toes, he needed to move fast and bring the person down. He had to make sure he didn't make them suspicious though, as they would probably bring him down in a heartbeat if they suspected something was off. He hadn't been in a warzone for years, and he hoped that he still remembered his training well.

"Damn" he said looking to his right finally figuring out a method of escape.

"Sorry guys, I think that I have run out of food, I'll have to go to my kitchen and attempt to scavenge for some more." He made sure his microphone sensitivity was on its highest; he wanted them to hear everything.

Maxwell quickly locked his COM Pad and his computer. He didn't want them to be able to shut down the stream easily, or spread a virus throughout it. He had also doubted that they had brought an AI with them, as they would be able to shut down the stream with ease.

Kepler got up normally, stretched his limbs and continued out into his kitchen. His apartment wasn't the largest, with a kitchen/dining room/lounge room being the first room you stepped into, the bedroom that was hosting the stream exactly opposite from his front door. Next to his bedroom door was another door that led into his bathroom. You could get into his bathroom via a door in his bedroom, with a dresser being opposite such door. Upon looking to his left, he saw out to his balcony's glass door. He basked in the city's light knowing that he wouldn't be able to enjoy it for much longer. He went towards his fridge, opened it up, grabbed a whole cold meat pie and shut it again.

He heard footsteps within his bedroom as the soft crunch of a foot on carpet moved towards his computer. He put on his prescription glasses he had accidentally left on the kitchen counter. His eyes had been clearly damaged from a frag grenade's shrapnel. He didn't always wear them, but he decided that he would need to tonight.

He pretended to not notice as various password attempts had been made on his computer, with similar results on his COM Pad. He went back in, sat the meat pie down and went back out again, deciding that if he was to make it look plausible, he would grab more snacks from his fridge.

He grabbed a plate out of one of his kitchen's cupboards and placed it carefully on the bench. Grabbing a mud cake out of the fridge, he grabbed a kitchen knife and sliced a clean triangle from the whole cake. He placed it and the knife carefully on the plate, placed the cake back in the fridge, and then licked the knife clean.

Kepler made sure that before returning to his bedroom, that he had concealed his knife and grabbed an extra packet of chips.

He had noticed that more attempts had been made to log in to his computer on his way back in. He placed down all of the objects, then unlocked his com pad carefully.

Whilst still standing up, he opened up a radio frequencies app that could be used to talk on various UNSC frequencies. He noticed that one had immense activity surrounding his area, and selected it carefully.

He turned up the volume to max, put his hand in his pocket and began to talk.

"Hey assholes, enjoy this. I don't like being spied upon, nor do I like you attempting to get into my computer." He said with an evident smirk on his face.

The ONI operative uncloaked themselves and quickly ran at him. Kepler quickly plugged the COM Pad into his microphone's sound box, and isolated a high pitched noise to that channel. Upon hearing this noise, the operative seemed to cower in an attempt to get it out of their ears. He quickly grabbed the kitchen knife out of his pocket, and stabbed it right up in to the person's chest.

Max finally got a good look at them at this point, with them being so close to his eyes. They weren't just an ONI Operative, but it appeared that they were an ODST as well. Upon looking closely at their face, he did a rough estimate of their age determining that they were early – mid thirties, and swiftly kneed them in the place he had decided it would hurt them most.

They hadn't given up yet though, and drew a pistol. Time seemed to go in slow motion as Max grabbed the gun, and pointed it towards the roof as it fired. It sent powder down from the ceiling, as he turned the gun around and aimed it towards their chest. It seemed that their shields had a hard time recovering from the knife (As he had expected), and had an even worse time recovering from another bullet entering their stomach.

He quickly threw the guy back, with their body landing on the ground. He searched him for any other weapons as he was once trained to scavenge for them out on a battlefield, and upon finding nothing but a Combat Knife gave up.

He quickly layed them down on their back, and realised that they were moaning in pain.

"Sorry pal, it was you or me." He said, feeling pity for the man.

He ran out into his kitchen, managed to scavenge up a towel and ran back in. The familiar crackle of his armour attempting to regenerate its shields seemingly dying down. Not wanting to give complete medical attention to the man, nor wanting to kill them made him quickly put the towel around the outsides of the knife bulging out of his chest. The towel went just far enough as to cover the bullet wound as well.

Upon pressing down on the man, he heard a sickening moan/wail as his body begged for relief from the pain. He grabbed their hands, and firmly placed them ontop of where the wounds were.

"There, keep pressure on your wounds and you might just make it out of here alive." Max said, before finally realising that he had got blood all over his hands.

He logged back in to his computer, just as what he could assume to be ODST teams banging in his door. He didn't expect this much force, but knowing that they had his records, he doubted that they wanted to take any chances in acquisition.

"Well guys, it appears that they are here for me." He continued talking, with a slight panic in his voice.

"My name is Maxwell Kepler, and I thank you for joining me on Hunt the Truth" He clicked on the video from earlier, and released it on to his chat, and then he played the infamous four note tune from Giraud's audio log series.

Max quickly locked his computer again before turning it off as he heard loud voices shout from his front door.

"GET ON THE GROUND NOW, GET ON THE GODDAMN GROUND!" A rough voice shouted through the silence of his apartment.

Actually, now that he thought about it he realised that his building was too quiet. Normally one of his next door neighbours would be blasting music full volume by now, as they seemed to enjoy having parties. But it was deathly silent. Had they cleared his building just like they did with Giraud's, so there would be no witnesses to anything that may occur?

"Or what?" Max said in a mocking voice, not bothering to turn around and meet the team who had just wrecked his apartment's door.

He turned around just in time to see a gun swing at his face, to then be met by the rough texture of his carpet.

"Target acquired" One of the men seemed to say before putting cuffs onto Max's arms.

"I want two of you with him at all times, with Humbler and Prance being here and cleaning up that stream. The rest of you I want to be stationed outside, to prevent anything getting in or out." A rough voice seemed to say, obviously being the squad's leader.

"SIR YES SIR" They all shouted in unison as they moved to their set positions.

Max was dragged up, and was met face to face with their leader.

The man had a chiselled face, with a long scar running across one of his cheeks. His eyes seemed to be a steely-blue colour with little to no eyebrows above it. He seemed to be glaring at Maxwell, as if to be holding some sort of animosity against him.

"You know, you could just stop glaring at me and help your squadmate down there." Max seemed to say this in a matter-of-fact tone, which seemed to anger him more.

"Humbler, get that soldier out of here right now." He seemed to have his rage bubbling just below the surface. Max knew that he could get anger easily out of this guy, but he just had to be careful about how and when.

Kepler looked to his left and saw Humbler, a girl in her Mid-Twenties with brunette hair and emerald green eyes lift the man he had injured earlier. He moaned his thanks, as she helped him up and helped him to safety. She had obviously not seen war, as she had little to no scarring anywhere on her body.

"For a minute there, I didn't think you cared about your squad." Kepler seemed to say, in a smartass sort of tone.

Something seemed to break in the man then, as he sent a punch hurtling towards Max's face. It was too fast for him to dodge though, as it connected with the opposite side of where the gun had connected, just to the left of his eye.

Maxwell attempted to lift his head up, in an attempt to knock the dizziness he had encountered away. The man seemed to help in this matter, by lifting up his head by his chin. By this point, Max had realised that he wasn't wearing any glasses. As the man went to swing again, one of the people holding his arms finally spoke up.

"Gray-One, Back down!" They shouted at the man.

Finally, he eased. He turned Kepler's head, admiring his handiwork and let go of his head.

"See? I do care about my team." He seemed to be the one making the sly remarks now. Max didn't want to feel any more pain, so he decided to back down for the time being.

"Get him out of my sight, put him on the pelican but DO NOT take off. We might need him later." He grinned at Max before heading towards Kepler's computer.

Before being dragged out, Kepler managed to grab a small earpiece from his bench. He shot a glare at Gray-One's way, as he stood from his bedroom door watching him be brought out.


End file.
